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Oct 2017
he wraps you in the seams of his quilted fleece jacket
only for you to tumble towards teetering ground with a
myriad of other dissipated items
a dollar bill
a cough drop wrapper
and breakfast bar crumbs.

his face backlit, the stained windows of the church
in which you have learned
that the weight of the world cracked atom's ribs
and made woman
the product of his suffering
but, eve
repeat:
you are not made from the vestige of this man nor the absence of him

you do not owe this to him
you do not owe him the gnawing on your fingernails: numb
you do not owe him your skin, he buries himself under
creates a crater in your chest and uses your heart as his cave

whisper: he payed for dinner (the one that you couldn't eat: your stomach pulled inside out from worry)
that he
doesn't love you
or worse
you don't love him
speak: nei softly nei fading
do not let him lick tears off your face
and tell you they taste like sugar:
rip that piece of paper that he wrote his
number on
slips his hand in your pocket at the club

for
he does not deserve you.
haley
Written by
haley  17/F/seattle, wa
(17/F/seattle, wa)   
1.9k
   Xallan
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